


Heart

by MissScorp



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anger, Bittersweet Ending, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Grief, Revenge, Riddles, saying goodbye, self-realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20587430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissScorp/pseuds/MissScorp
Summary: The answer to the riddle was not vengeance.





	Heart

"I'm getting really tired of pretending that I'm not evil."

The words were not said to anybody. There was nobody there on the docks to hear him speak. Not unless one wanted to count the handful of seagulls fighting over a few scraps of garbage a short distance away. 

He tuned out their high-shrieks as he continued to watch the murky waves slapping at the docks for signs that the Mayor - _the former Mayor_, he corrected, a slight smile playing about his lips - had somehow managed to not only survive the bullet he put in him, but his topple into the waters cold embrace, as well. 

There was no sign of the man who professed himself the King of Gotham's criminal underworld. 

Oswald Cobblepot was officially nothing more than fish food.

_A most fitting end for a man nicknamed the Penguin_.

However, as much as he hated Oswald for what he had done _to_ him - to Isabella - there was still a part of him grateful for what he had done _for_ him. If not for Oswald, he would still be considered criminally insane. Still, his appreciation only extended so far...

"Getting rid of you has freed me from the constraints I hadn't realized were placed upon me by our association. I can finally be who I am. I no longer have to cater to you or to the pathetic masses of this city."

He didn't have to cater to anyone, in fact. He could be anything or _anyone_ that he wanted. There was nobody to stop him, tell him no, talk him out of whatever he decided to do. 

He was _free_. 

There was a tickle inside his chest. 

A strange mixture of joy and sadness. 

However, the relief and pleasure careening through him was short-lived. That vengeance he thought he wanted, tasted bitter. _What had he gained here_? he found himself wondering. Killing Oswald had not brought him the satisfaction he thought it would. His death did not return his precious Isabella to him.

_Isabella_...

Almost as if he conjured her from thin air, she appeared before him. She watched him from beyond the watery veil separating them. Her face was pale against the dark water, her hair draping down her back in soft coils. Her eyes glowed behind the lenses of her glasses. 

Deeply green, deeply sad. 

The waves rushed up and over the docks, but he made no move to leave. He simply stood there, staring at Isabella and realizing his long-desired revenge had only left him feeling one thing: _empty_.

"I can't be bought, but I can be stolen with a glance," he murmured to the woman standing so close, and yet so far away. "I'm worthless to one, but priceless to two. What am I?"

_“Love_,” he swore he heard her whisper. “_You are love.”_

"Love is a source of strength for many, but for me, it is my most crippling weakness." The words were familiar ones. Foul-tasting ones. "A man with nothing to love..." He paused to swallow his anger and grief. "He is a man who cannot be bargained with. A man who cannot be betrayed. He's a man who answers only to himself. And that...” He didn't growl the words. No, he was more weary than angry now. "That is the man who I see before me. I am the freed man. A man with nothing and nobody to hold me back."

He turned from the woman who stood there, damning him with her eyes.

"If you break me, I do not stop working; if you touch me, I may be snared; if you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?"

Edward Nygma walked away before the soft breeze could carry her answer to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all and welcome! Getting the legal outta the way, I own nothing here save for my interpretation of the character Edward Nygma. Everything else belongs to who it legally belongs.
> 
> This piece is set after the Gotham season 3x14 episode, The Gentle Art Of Making Enemies and was inspired by a Facebook writing prompt that said: "I'm getting really tired of pretending that I'm not evil."
> 
> Please if you like this piece, kudo it!


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